EXILE | TOM RIDDLE

28. Blood Stained Hands (II)

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Is what Tom says after the longest silence I have ever heard from him before.

"You have hidden bodies before," I say, voice stiller than I imagine it should be. "This should be no different."

He whips to look at me, eyes wide. "I have never killed inside the school! Not like this! For fucks sake, Rebekah, you're going to get us both thrown in Azkaban!"

I shake my head, though I find it difficult to retract my gaze from Awad's body, and how it is caved in onto itself in the strange way I had shoved it into the cupboard. Contorted, almost, in a way no human should find itself. It takes a moment for me to remember Awad is not a human, not any longer, anyways. Now, he is flesh and bones and his spirit elsewhere.

"You owe me," is the response I eventually give him.

"I owe you?" Tom repeats incredulously. "What are you on about?"

"You do," I insist. "With Myrtle, I helped you cover it up. I could have turned you in, but I did not. Now, you must do the same with me."

"Must? There isn't a thing on this planet I must do."

My eyebrows raise.

There are so many things I wish to say, threats that linger on the tip of my tongue, ways I could twist this into his fault somehow, his doing, but I keep those thoughts buried beneath me. I know that deep down, Tom will not let me leave this castle as a criminal, no matter how much he may protest my actions. I know that, while what he feels for me may not be the love I do for him, it is something akin to love, a deep, burning obsession that forbids him from causing me harm.

He exhales a breath, reverting his attention back to the corpse. "Did he have it coming, Awad?"

I nod slowly. "He grabbed me. He was trying to bring me back to where I came from. My mother, she sent him to find me. Something about an unbreakable vow..."

"Why did you not go back?" He questions almost instantly, a strange sort of edge to his tone. "Why did you stay?"

Not why did I kill him, I notice. He has no care for Awad, for his life or lack thereof, just me. Me and my thoughts and my reasons, and while the answer is so clear, so simple, the mere idea of speaking it out loud sends a realization through me. I have just killed, claimed a life that was not mine to take, for Tom Riddle.

But it is as though my mind is open, with all my thoughts out and on display for him to poke and prod. "You didn't want to leave me."

I remain silent, neither confirming nor denying his suspicion.

"The Chamber is out of the picture. If Salazar returns, he'll see the corpse, and could easily find a way to pin it on us. But...I might know a place," he exhales a breath, seemingly taking my silence as affirmation. "But we'll have to be stealthy, make sure no one sees us going inside. And I'm not sure how we'd manage to get him there without anyone seeing."

"Where is it?"

"A room, in a corridor on the fifth floor. I discovered it a few months ago. It only opens when you walk past three times while conceptualizing what it is you want."

"Awad has more classes soon," I gulp. "We will have to move him before lunch ends, and anyone comes to his room."

"Or," Tom begins with the lift of his finger to keep me quiet. "We wait until night, and sneak him there then."

"And until then? What if someone notices his absence?"

"I'll take care of it. I am a Prefect, after all."